


Past Tense

by msinformed13



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Military, Army, Army Quinn, F/F, Fababies, Fluff and Angst, Military, Sad but a happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-17
Updated: 2017-05-17
Packaged: 2018-11-01 18:20:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 14,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10927407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msinformed13/pseuds/msinformed13
Summary: '"I can't believe you turned me into an Army Wife." Rachel joked, trying desperately to lighten the mood. "It's a good look on you." Quinn teased. Rachel laughed, and god, she was going to miss this.' Faberry AU In which Quinn is in the Army and dies, leaving Rachel behind with their children to move on. Jumps in time between present and past before Quinn's death.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N- This story is quite AU and switches between two time periods. The first half of each chapter is in the 'present tense' and the second half is the 'past tense'. There's major character death presented right at the beginning and dealt with throughout. (don't own Glee or anything really)
> 
> This was written because I needed to write it. (and because how can I resist when people tell me to write more faberry?)
> 
> I feel as though this is the most explanation I can give for this story.
> 
> Repost from FANFICTION

"When someone you love dies, and you're not expecting it, you don't lose her all at once; you lose her in pieces over a long time—the way the mail stops coming, and her scent fades from the pillows and even from the clothes in her closet and drawers. Gradually, you accumulate the parts of her that are gone. Just when the day comes—when there's a particular missing part that overwhelms you with the feeling that she's gone, forever—there comes another day, and another specifically missing part."

― John Irving, A Prayer for Owen Meany

* * *

1.

The first time Rachel Berry refers to her wife in the past tense is at the funeral. Up until that point, she has gotten by with the present, or vague inclinations. Like when Kurt comes over the day she found out, and he brews them both tea. He is searching the extensive tea bag collection when Rachel interrupts with a, "Don't use the black chai, it's Quinn's."

The man, still as perfectly put together as he was in highschool (though by now his taste is ever so slightly more conservative) softens. He leaves the kettle on the stove and joins Rachel on the couch, puts his arm around her, and pulls her into his chest as Rachel finally breaks down. He pats her hair down as he had seen Quinn do countless times since she and Rachel had gotten together. But now, he wishes for words, anything to offer his best friend.

"She can't be dead, it has to be a mistake." Rachel whispers so softly, so brokenly, "Her unit wasn't even supposed to be close to the combat."

Kurt knows that Rachel's disbelief is natural, all the same, he knows he has to try and bring her to sense, "You know they wouldn't make a mistake about this."

When the kettle whistles later, it makes both of them jump before Kurt goes pour the water. He picks peppermint tea, it's the farthest thing from the black chai he can find, and he hopes the sharp smell will keep Rachel here with him. He sees Quinn's mug hanging next to Rachel's, the one that Nora had decorated for mother's day last year in preschool with juvenile camouflage and shaky letters. He pulls out two plain Crate and Barrel mugs, these ones don't have ghosts hiding in them.

He returns to find Rachel sitting up straight, legs crossed, her face determined like he always knew she could be.

"What are you going to do?" He asks, already knowing that she will have an answer.

"I'm going to go on." Rachel replies as she accepts her tea, "I have to."

From that first day until approximately a week later, Rachel manages to keep from having to admit to herself really that Quinn is gone. It is when she is standing at the service, two children dressed in black to her left, and Santana to her right, when she hears the speaker (not a priest, Quinn had been specific) say 'Quinn was so incredibly passionate', Rachel feels the finality of the moment settle in her chest.

It's not crushing like Rachel has always read in tragic novels, rather, it's a constant press. Just heavy enough to constrict her breath back in her throat, but not quite enough to keep her from breathing.

She is still breathing.

…

"This is ridiculous." Rachel complained for the third time that evening.

"Just try to enjoy it. Besides, the cover charge is only four dollars." Kurt replied, trying to psych her up. They were standing in line with a group of their friends from NYADA to get into a frat party at Columbia. She's a junior, and she's been to enough of these to know that the beer with be light and cheap, the jungle juice will be toxic, the music will be shit, and the 'dancing' will be an excuse for awkward boys to try to play grabass.

But she played along and was the go to sober chaperone to make sure everyone made it back on campus alright, or was safe in their decision spend the night.

The party lived up to all of her expectations, and she was just walking into the kitchen to get another cup of whatever mixer was left when she was instead met with the sight of nearly twenty women all squished in the room chanting loudly and raucously.

"Shoot the boot, shoot the boot!"

In the center of it all was a stunning blonde. She was blushing deeply while holding what appeared to be a soccer cleat. One of the other women in the room was pouring beer into the shoe until it could hold no more. At such time, the blonde grimaced, but brought the cleat to her lips and chugged the light amber liquid inside. She only gagged once before removing the shoe from her lips and flipping it upside down over her head to prove it was empty. A couple of drops fell out into her hair, but the blonde's triumphant smile was clear.

Rachel shook her head and poured herself a cup of ginger ale.

Less than one badly remixed song later, and that same blonde was making her way single mindedly over to Rachel. The singer couldn't help but openly appraise the woman's flawless bone structure, her strong arms (bare in a tank top) and the brilliantly purple bruise all along her jaw that Rachel had completely missed seeing in the kitchen.

The blonde noticed her staring at the bruise and cracked a smile, "You should see the other guy." She joked.

Rachel laughed, "I see you've opted for a cup this time around." The brunette said, nodding at the red cup the woman was holding.

"You saw that, huh?" She asked embarrassedly rubbing the back of her neck.

Rachel merely grinned, "Why exactly were you drinking out of a cleat?"

"Rugby." The blonde laughed, "I scored my first try of the season today." She said as though it explained everything. Though the purplish bruise on her jaw certainly made more sense now.

"Well congratulations." Rachel said, pausing for the blonde to fill in her name.

"Quinn."

"Congratulations, Quinn."

"Thank you."


	2. Chapter 2

"Where you used to be, there is a hole in the world, which I find myself constantly walking around in the daytime, and falling in at night. I miss you like hell."

― Edna St. Vincent Millay

...

Rachel zips up her dress, and just for a moment, she remembers what it used to feel like when Quinn would stand behind her, push her hair over one shoulder, and pull the zipper gently up Rachel's spine. She remembers the way Quinn would always pause at the top, pressing a kiss to the spot where Rachel's spine turned into her neck before she would finish zipping the dress.

Rachel cries, but only a little bit. Just the gentle drop of a few tears that she's gotten used to shedding in the past week.

She exits the bedroom and wanders down the hall to see Alec struggling to remember how to do his tie, at eleven he's still a bit awkward in his own body. Their black lab, Sergeant is laying in the corner, his tail wagging lazily. She watches Alec try once more before she enters the room.

"Can I help?" She greets.

The boy stands still while Rachel kneels down to pull the collar of his button up outside that of his sweater and knot his tie for him. He's been getting so tall lately, she almost doesn't have to kneel to help him.

"I don't like ties." He says subdued.

"I know sweetie, but you've got to look good today."

"Because we're going to say goodbye to Ma." He parrots the line that Rachel had been repeating when she tried to explain to her children where they are going.

"Exactly." She says, trying her best not to cry, "Go downstairs and get your shoes. Put Sergeant outside as well."

Alec does as he's told and shuffles from the room, Rachel goes across the hall to collect Nora. The six year old is staring at her dolls with a critical eye.

"Ready to go, Nor?"

"Can I bring a doll?"

"Just one."

The small girl selects a well loved barbie before following her mother downstairs. Puck drives them to the graveyard, the service is small, and it's not too cold so it is held outside. The folding chairs are white, and Quinn's platoon is there, all in their formal uniforms just like Puck. Rachel sits as still as a statue through the entire service, Nora and Alec remaining quiet and solemn, and Rachel wonders how much of this they will remember. When the representatives of the Army give Rachel the folded flag, she tries to stay strong, but Santana knows the singer can't hold together much longer. She wraps an arm around Rachel's shoulders, and squeezes reassuringly.

When they begin lowering the casket down, Puck and the platoon salute Quinn one final time, and Alec does as well, just like Puck had taught him. He cries, and Rachel pulls him to her, rubbing up and down his back. He understands what is happening.

When they get home, Rachel puts the flag in a display box on the mantel next to a photo of Quinn in uniform. The picture is beside one of Rachel and Quinn on their wedding day, they're both in white dresses, both smiling- Rachel smiling at something just off to the side, and Quinn smiling at Rachel, the photo was taken without either bride knowing.

…

Quinn reclined in the plush armchair in the corner of the coffee shop, Rachel sat across from her warming her hands on a cup of peppermint cocoa.

"Alright, awkward first date questions." Quinn smiled, breaking the quiet that had settled over them, "I'll go first, where are you from?"

"Lima, Ohio. A small town with even smaller people." Rachel replied with a laugh, she found Quinn's straightforward nature so refreshing, it was one of the reasons she had agreed to this date in the first place after watching the blonde drink out of a shoe at a frat party, "What are you studying?"

"Civil engineering." Quinn admitted, "I know, not very glamourous, but I like it. What's your favorite ice cream flavor?"

"Pistachio." The brunette said easily, "Siblings?"

"One older sister, Fran. She's an artist in San Francisco. Career goals?"

"Perform on Broadway." Rachel got the dreamy look she always did when she spoke of performing. And so their conversation went until Quinn's phone rang, she was about to press decline until she saw the caller ID.

"I'm sorry." She said, looking entirely sincere, "I've got to take this."

Quinn stepped away to take the call, and came back shortly with a concerned expression plastered across her face.

"Is everything alright?"

"No, one of my kids is drunk."

Rachel furrowed her brows in confusion, and Quinn replayed her explanation, realizing how vague it sounded.

"I'm in the Army ROTC program. It's just training so when I graduate, I'll become an officer in the Army. One of the freshmen is trashed and there's a really strict underage drinking policy so we've got to go sort him out."

"Oh."

"Yeah, I'm so sorry. I was really enjoying this."

"Me too."

Rachel's admission brought a bright smile to Quinn's face, "Maybe we could do this again sometime?"

"I would like that."

"Great!" Quinn beamed, running a hand through her hair when her phone began buzzing again, she grimaced at the caller ID, "I'll call you?"

"Yeah." Rachel agreed easily.

For a second, Quinn just smiled at Rachel before seemingly coming to her senses, squeezing the still sitting woman's shoulder and sweeping from the coffee shop. She brought her phone up to her ear with an annoyed, "What now, Puckerman?"


	3. Chapter 3

"I guess by now I should know enough about loss to realize that you never really stop missing someone-you just learn to live around the huge gaping hole of their absence."

― Alyson Noel, Evermore

...

Rachel is trying, she is really truly trying to smile at her little girl who is showing her the drawings that she's done in school today, but she knows that it feels more like a grimace than anything else.

"Hey, peanut." Puck calls, coming into the room a tornado of energy like only he can. He lifts Nora up into the air, spinning her around once before plopping the six year old back down on the ground beside Rachel, "How was school?"

"Awesome!" The girl replies with a toothy smile.

"Where's your brother?"

"In the backyard playing with Sergeant."

Puck nods, "Well I brought Auntie Britt with me, do you think you could go play with Britt and Alec in the yard while I talk to your momma?"

Nora nods his head solemnly before running off to do just that. With her out of earshot, Puck wastes no time in being frank with Rachel, "You look like shit, when's the last time you got out of here?"

"I walk the kids to school everyday." She defends, eyes flashing.

"And aside from that?"

Rachel shoots him a glare that confirms his suspicions.

"We're going on a drive." He announces, walking back towards the entryway without stopping to see if Rachel is even following (he knows she will).

They pile into his truck, and the engine roars to life. Puck doesn't know where to go, but once he pulls out of the driveway, he feels the familiar tug of gravel, and he instantly understands where he has to take Rachel. The drive is relatively short, and he's glad that his truck is always prepared when they pull off a main road onto an unpaved parking lot. It's the trailhead of a National Park, it's got campsites, rivers, and most importantly, the lake. He gets out of the truck without a word to Rachel and begins rummaging through a chest in the bed of the truck while the singer watches skeptically.

He emerges soon after with a triumphant smile on his face and a small axe in his hand.

"Are you going to cut me into small pieces?" Rachel intones sarcastically.

"Don't be ridiculous, you're already a small piece." He replies before leading the way into the forest. They walk in silence along the path for a while until Puck turns a sharp left, leading Rachel into the thick underbrush. They emerge on a small beach of the lake.

"What is this?"

Puck looks around fondly, "This was Quinn and my' spot. We came here all the time when we had long shifts or you were at the theatre late, or we needed to clear our heads."

"And the axe?"

"Oh yeah." Puck smiles, having forgotten about the light tool in his hand, "We were working in hollowing out a canoe."

He points at a sad fallen log with the insides about half hacked away.

"Why did you bring me here, Puck?"

"Because you need to get this out. This pent up whatever the hell. You haven't been acting right for weeks, the kids are off because of it, you need to snap out of this."

Rachel's temper immediately flares, "Don't you dare accuse me of not caring for my children, Noah Puckerman. You don't know what the hell you're talking about."

"She's gone Rachel! And you moping about isn't going to change that!"

"I know that!" Rachel yells back, Puck shoves the axe on her, "What the hell am I supposed to do with this?"

"Hit the canoe."

"That's ridiculous."

"Quinn is dead, you're acting like a robot, and you need to fucking snap out of it! Now hit the goddamn canoe!"

Rachel glares at him, but doesn't hesitate in spinning around to take a whack at the canoe. Her first hit just sort of pitifully bounces off the wood. Her second hit is solid.

"Tell me what you're feeling." He commands.

"She promised me. I hate her." Rachel pants out between swings.

"Let it out." Puck encourages.

"She's a bitch, a fucking bitch. She makes me fall in love with her, she builds a life with me, and then just fucking leaves!"

Puck just stands back and watches Rachel finally face what's been building for nearly a month. Her hits speed up until the tears and sweat mix together on her face.

"I hate her! I fucking hate her! She broke her promise, she's an asshole, and a liar."

Rachel lands a few more solid blows before seemingly running out of steam. She lets the axe fall into the canoe as sobs rip through the anger.

Puck steps in to catch her in his arms and let her tears soak his shirt.

"That's not true, I don't hate her." Rachel cries.

"I know you don't." Puck promises, rubbing soothing circles into her back.

"I don't know how I'm going to do this without her. Raise our kids, keep going, I don't know."

"You're not alone." They both know how very true this statement is.

"I love her."

"Me too."

Rachel's voice breaks when she edits herself, "I loved her."

…

"I love her." Rachel said, her head hanging off the edge of her bed with her legs stretching up the wall to recover after a long dance class.

Kurt rolled his eyes, but couldn't help but smile at his best friend, "You've been dating for two months."

Rachel ignored his skepticism, preferring to stay in her happy space, "Two months is plenty long enough. It's longer than any relationship you've had in the past few years." She smirked.

Kurt tossed a piece of popcorn at the singer, knowing that her jabs were all in good faith, "Just be careful. I don't want to see you get hurt."

Rachel smiled at her friend's protective nature, "Quinn would never hurt me."

"I don't doubt that."

They sat in amicable silence for a little, both stuck in their own thoughts. Kurt was the first to break it when a sudden realization passed by him, "Have you told your fathers about her yet?"

"Of course."

"And have you told them she's in the Army?"

"She isn't actually in the Army yet, Kurt. She doesn't get commissioned until she graduates." Kurt gave her his best hard stare until she crumbled, "No, I haven't."

"And aren't they flying out to visit over the long weekend?"

Rachel bit her lip with a faint glare, "Yeah."

"You do see the problem with this, right?"

"I'm choosing to ignore it."

Kurt rolled his eyes, he knew that everything would work out fine. He also knew that the Berry men would give him shit for not telling them sooner. Since he and Santana were the only two from highschool going to New York with Rachel, he had been in contact with the Berry family since the day after they arrived in the city.

Sure enough, when the Berry men arrived at Rachel and Kurt's apartment after meeting their daughter and Quinn at the airport, it took only about two minutes of catching up on how school was going until the next question from Hiram was, 'So our baby is an Army girlfriend?'

Kurt had no idea how to reply to that, so he just threw his head back and laughed, "I guess she is."

 


	4. Chapter 4

"Life seems sometimes like nothing more than a series of losses, from beginning to end. That's the given. How you respond to those losses, what you make of what's left, that's the part you have to make up as you go."

― Katharine Weber, The Music Lesson

* * *

The first time that Rachel laughs after, is nearly a month and a half after. Tomorrow is Nora's turn to bring snack to girl scouts and the kid has requested cookies. As such, Rachel is mixing dough with her girl sitting on the counter next to her, carefully measuring out ingredients.

They are making Nora's favorite kind of cookies, 'chocolate dump-it cookies'. So named because of an incident when Alec was still quite young and Rachel was pregnant with Nora. Henry was requesting cookies, and Rachel finally broke down and let him help her whip up a batch.

Quinn came home just in time to find Rachel wearing on a final nerve. She was holding Alec so he didn't topple over in his excitement, and he had been begging the brunette to let him add in more chocolate chips. Rachel finally gave in with an annoyed huff of 'fuck it' and let him pour in the bag.

The boy's eyebrows had shot up in surprise at his mother's language, but Quinn stepped in flawlessly, "Yeah, Al, dump it!" She cheered, coming to hold Alec so Rachel could get a break, "Are you making dump-it cookies with Mommy?"

The boy broke out into a wide smile while Rachel sat down gratefully, rubbing her swollen stomach.

It's been awhile since Alec helped in the making of dump-it cookies, now that he's 'mature' but Nora can't get enough.

Sergeant is laying on the ground at her feet, his head tucked down in between his front paws, hoping for them to drop something yummy.

"We need three scoops of flour." Rachel instructs.

The six year old catches her tongue between her teeth as she squints at the cup in her hands, making sure it is perfectly level before dumping it into the bowl. She scoops out another one, and is just about to add it as well, but the cup slips through her fingers, clattering loudly to the floor, spilling the white flour all over Sergeant.

The dog shakes violently, sending up a cloud of flour and dog hair.

Nora giggles, the warm, soft, musical, laughter that Rachel can't help but join in with. The entire kitchen is covered in a white dusting, and Rachel's light laugh turns into a full bellied chuckle, she clutches her arms around herself as she lets loose. She laughs until tears leak from the corners of her eyes.

Rachel feels a tinge of guilt when her eyes land on Quinn's mug, still hanging in the cabinet next to her own, but it's a fleeting feeling. She knows Quinn would want this.

When she can regain her breath, Rachel smiles at her daughter, "Let's get you cleaned up, Peanut, and we'll finish making these cookies in a little bit."

Nora giggles and nods. Rachel lifts the little girl onto her hip (she's just barely still small enough for Rachel to do this without straining too much), and turns to leave from the kitchen. She doesn't notice Alec watching from the doorway, she doesn't see the wide smile across his face at finally seeing his mother happy again.

…

Rachel woke up to an empty bed, and she immediately frowned. She rolled out and padded quietly out of the bedroom, pausing in the doorway to the living room. Quinn was on the couch, her elbows on her knees, hands templed in front of her face while she stared intently at the television.

It was on to a new station, a woman was standing in front of a green screen filled with the weather forecast, but Rachel knew that Quinn's eyes must be trained to the ticker tape at the bottom of the screen. Rachel strained her eyes to read the quick moving words, but she couldn't. Only when the weather woman was minimized and the main anchors filled the screen, did Rachel realize what got her girlfriend out of bed so early on a Sunday.

'Positive identification has been made on the six American servicemembers killed in Afghanistan four days ago. Sergeant Harper King with the US Navy leaves behind a wife and two sons…' Rachel stopped listening at that point and focused on the way Quinn's shoulders tensed.

She made her presence known and padded across the room to stand behind the couch and rub her hands across Quinn's back, "Did Puck call you?"

Quinn nodded. The two of them were always keeping each other informed whenever they heard any news of military goings on, "A few of our alums are deployed in that area and we haven't gotten confirmation that they're all safe."

The news anchors made it through the identification of all the lost service members, and Rachel watched Quinn visibly soften. She knew that her girlfriend didn't recognize any of the names.

Quinn reached around to the back of the couch to grasp Rachel's arm, she tugged gently until Rachel got the hint and rounded the couch only to be pulled down into her girlfriend's lap. She curled herself into Quinn's strong frame, resting her head against the blonde's chest.

Rachel knew that this was part of her life now, that there would be days she would have to spend in penance to the television news stations, hoping not to hear bad news. She knew that there were days Quinn was afraid, but Quinn never told her. On those days, she just held Rachel tighter, smiled softer, and looked at her with this warmth in her eyes, like she knew nothing was permanent.

They sat together in silence for a long while as the newscasters moved on to talk about the sports game from last night until Quinn broke the quiet, "Marry me?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"You're ridiculous." Rachel laughed.

They'd been dating for right around a year, and even though they weren't living together, they were basically living together as they finished their final year in college. One of the seniors in Quinn's ROTC detachment was getting married after graduation, and Quinn had been mock proposing ever since.

"Fine, if you won't marry me, will you at least grace me with your presence at breakfast?"

"Of course." Rachel smiled.

Quinn pressed a solid kiss Rachel's lips before scooting out from beneath her on the couch. She was wearing only and oversized shirt she must have pulled on somewhere between their bed and the couch after getting the call from Puck, and a thong.

She sauntered her way out of the living room to start on the vegan pancakes she always made Rachel, while the brunette took a quick shower.

Because they're basically living together, and because Quinn's apartment was closer to one of the buildings Rachel regularly rehearsed in than the brunette's own dorm room was, she had a drawer of clothes in the blonde's dresser. She found a pair of shorts to wear before moving to Quinn's closet, fully intent on finding a shirt to steal.

She pushed aside Quinn's multiple sets of camouflage uniforms, by now Rachel had learned that these ones are called ACUs and they aren't nearly as warm against the New York winter that you'd guess from seeing them. Rachel paused for a moment, her hand skimming across the 'FABRAY' name tape over one pocket, 'US ARMY' was over the other one.

Granted, Rachel's favorite part of Quinn's uniform was always taking it off the blonde, she would be lying if she said that she didn't love how Quinn looked in it.

Rachel dropped her arm and focused on the task at hand.

Damp hair pulled back in a bun, and wearing a stolen 'Colombia' shirt from Quinn along with a pair of short shorts, Rachel stood in the doorway and watched the blonde dancing around the kitchen while she prepared breakfast.

"Stars shining bright above you, night breezes seem to whisper 'I love you'. Birds singing in the sycamore trees, dream a little dream of me." Quinn sang as she spun around and grabbed plates to deposit her pancakes onto.

Rachel waited for a little longer, listening to her girlfriend's rich smoky voice.

She only entered the small kitchen when Quinn's eyes landed on her. The blonde's face brightened immediately, and she opened her arms with a wicked smile on her face, "Dance with me, Rach."

Because Quinn was looking at her like she's hung the moon, because in seven years Rachel will be the one watching ticker tapes at the bottom of a news broadcast, because Quinn was so very bright and so present, Rachel had no option really but to step forwards and let Quinn pull her into a loose embrace. She followed the blonde's lead in an upbeat waltz around the kitchen while they sang the rest of the song together.


	5. Chapter 5

...

"Separation

Your absence has gone through me

Like thread through a needle.

Everything I do is stitched with its color."

― W.S. Merwin

...

Rachel dreams of shattered glass. She dreams of crunching metal, of tires sliding, catching on ice, and not catching at al. Rachel dreams of a car seat, the one she straps her daughter into. She dreams of a scream, a haunting, 'Mommy' thrown out into the darkness.

She wakes up with a start, heart beating quick, hair slicked down with sweat. But she wakes up, and for a moment she allows herself to relax because it had all been a dream. There is no car, she's safe in bed, and Nora is sleeping just down the hall. It had all just been a nightmare.

A recurring nightmare to be exact, one she has been having ever since a few years ago when she and Quinn had taken the kids to Ohio for Christmas with her family.

She had been driving home from the store with Nora in the car when she hit a patch of black ice and went swerving. She only skidded for a few feet, and Nora didn't even wake up in her car seat, but ever since Rachel had been having the same dream.

As her breathing evens out, Rachel reaches across, "Quinn?" She asks, needing the comfort of her wife.

It's only when Rachel's reaching fingers brush against cold sheets that she lands back in reality.

Quinn isn't here, she isn't going to roll over, pull Rachel into her arms, stroke her hair, and tell her that everything is alright, because Quinn is dead.

The realization settles high and heavy in Rachel's chest, and the only sound she can make is a sort of strangled sob. It's early in the morning so the kids are still asleep, and the light is just barely starting to filter through the blinds, so if Rachel squints her eyes just right and holds herself quite still she can almost pretend that it's the same gold color as Quinn's hair was.

But she cannot possibly hold herself that still for long enough to buy into that, so she reaches out, grabs Quinn's pillow. She knows that by now it cannot possibly still smell like her, but all the same, Rachel buries her face in the fabric and lets her tears leak out.

Her shoulders shake in the intensity of her crying, and she first thinks she is imagining the strong hand on one of her shoulders. It feels too much like Quinn's used to. But the voice that comes with it lets Rachel know she isn't feeling ghosts.

"Mom?"

Rachel lifts her head enough to see Alec standing concerned next to her bed.

"I woke up and couldn't fall asleep." He explains, he's nearly twelve, and already he's turning into her little man.

"I'm sorry, did I wake you?" Rachel asks, her voice scratchy and weak.

"No, it was a dream." He shuffles his feet against the carpet while Rachel tries to dry her tears and put on a brave face for her son, "Can I sleep in here for a little bit?"

"Of course." Rachel scoots to the side, replacing Quinn's pillow. Alec is getting old for this, and somewhere in the back of her head she knows that she should be encouraging him to be able to sleep on his own. But she knows how hypocritical that is, since it's been weeks since she's been able to get any sleep in her empty bed.

She watches Alec fall asleep quickly, he's always been a good sleeper, even as a baby. After a few moments, Nora appears in the doorway. It's as if she can sense that she's missing out on some quality cuddling time. The small girl comes around Rachel's side of the bed, and crawls over the singer to snuggle in the space between her brother and her mother.

Rachel holds her family close and tries to convince herself that this will be alright. She tries to get used to the absence of Quinn on the other side of Alec, she thinks if only she holds her children tight enough, she can keep herself together.

…

Rachel straightened her hair for about the twelfth time in the past two minutes. Quinn put the car in park and shot her girlfriend a smile, it was spring break and they'll be graduating in a few months. Quinn caught Rachel's hand where it was going up undoubtedly to fix some imperfection which didn't actually exist.

"You look perfect, don't worry. Frannie's going to love you."

Rachel tried to smile, and accept Quinn's reassurance but it was hard. She knew that Quinn's relationship with her father was strained at best, and she was still working through things with her mother, but her sister was without a doubt the most important family member Quinn had. Now sitting in the car outside Frannie's apartment complex, Rachel couldn't help but stress out a little bit.

"But what if she doesn't?" Rachel asked before she could snap her mouth closed around the words.

Quinn smiled the smallest bit at Rachel, she would never understand how someone so amazing could be so insecure, "Then I'll have a very stern talk with her."

The brunette rolled her eyes, "Fine, let's do this."

"That's the spirit!" Quinn cheered, hoping out of the car. She hardly had time to make it around and open Rachel's door for her before she was smothered in a tight hug that nearly had the force to knock her to the ground.

"Quinnie!"

Rachel stood back and watched the blonde mess that was Quinn and her older sister before Frannie finally released her. The older woman ran a critical gaze up and down her sister's frame before nodding ever so slightly in what must have been approval before she rounded on Rachel.

The singer was frozen by how Frannie had exactly Quinn's eyes. They were the same hazel with overpowering streaks of gold that caught brilliantly in the sun. She was so frozen, that she completely missed what Frannie had said to her.

"I'm sorry, what?" Rachel stuttered out, feeling a blush already creeping up her cheeks.

Frannie smiled kindly, "I said Quinn's nonstop ramblings about you have not done you justice." Rachel saw a similar blush to her own rise on Quinn's cheeks before she too was being pulled in by Frannie for a quick hug and the older blonde was leading them both up to her apartment.

She told them both how excited she was that they've come to visit, and they meet her boyfriend (soon to be fiancé) named Robert.

They're so happy, and their apartment was bright and airy. Quinn was right, and of course Frannie absolutely loved Rachel, they bonded instantly over Quinn's snoring (which she still denied actually doing).

It doesn't strike either of them until years later how seamlessly Rachel fits into Quinn's family, and the other way around.


	6. Chapter 6

"She took a step and didn't want to take any more, but she did."

― Markus Zusak, The Book Thief

* * *

It's April and the kids are still in school. It's around four months after the funeral and Rachel is staring quite intently at her closet.

She's staring at the closet because it's full.

Overflowing really would be the more appropriate adjective as Rachel had come home from rehearsal with an armful of costumes she had to go through. She was finally at a point in her Broadway career where she had been doing this long enough to know her stuff, and others respected her opinion. As such she gets final say on costumes.

But there's nowhere else for her to hang the remainder of outfits. She still has a few laying on the bed and she knows they're getting more wrinkled by the second and reluctantly, she knows what she has to do.

She goes down to the garage, shuffling through the shelves next to her car looking for something. She shoves aside the garbage bags because they just feel wrong before she finally finds the cardboard boxes she is looking for.

The boxes are from the last time they moved and Rachel looks at them fondly as she carries them back up to the bedroom. They have simple things written on them like 'books' and 'dishes- CAREFUL' from last time they moved. Most of the labels were written by Rachel, but there's this one box labeled 'tactical supplies' that is undoubtedly in Quinn's messy scrawl. Rachel smiles softly at it. She knows that they had been lucky, having to move a relatively small amount of times compared with some of the other families of officers they had gotten to know through Quinn's time in the army.

Rachel's job helped with that, as well as Quinn's specific taskings.

She tries, she really does when she gets back upstairs to pack up Quinn's clothes. She makes it two shirts in until her hands find an old workout shirt from Columbia that Rachel remembers stealing various times throughout college and beyond, and she breaks down.

She calls Santana who is there in less than twenty minutes with hardly a scathing remark on her lips.

"Are you sure about this, Berry?"

"Yeah."

Santana takes one look at the empty boxes and the red rings around Rachel's eyes, and shakes her head, "Come with me." She leads Rachel downstairs where she turns on the coffee maker, she's never been the tea type, and she's not about to change that for Rachel.

Santana makes them both a mug. She takes one sip of her black coffee and leaves it downstairs, "I'll come get you when I'm done."

Rachel doesn't protest.

Santana makes quick work of the closet. Most of the clothes she boxes up for donation, she puts aside the garments that she knows Rachel likes to steal, and leaves a few items out for question. She does the drawers as well, doing her best not to leave something behind that Rachel will stumble upon later.

She brings Rachel back upstairs to ask about the last few garments.

"Quinn's cheerleading uniform." Santana nods at the dry cleaner bag.

Rachel runs her hand over the plastic with a small smile pulling at her lips, "Remember that halloween, right after we all graduated, that she wore this?"

Santana laughs, "She used to lord it over me that she could still fit into it nearly five years later. You know she told me before her last deployment that she could squeeze into it if she really wanted. Liar."

Rachel joins in the laughter, "Sometimes I wish I had known her in her cheerleader days."

"No you don't." Santana smirks, "She was a bitch with a capital B when we were in high school. Poor little repressed lesbian- you know if she had accepted her full queer majesty back then she could have had any girl she wanted."

Rachel rolls her eyes, "That's something I should keep, right?"

The Latina shrugs, "I don't know, what are you going to use it for?"

"What if Nora wants to be a cheerleader one day?"

"Then what?" Santana asks, "You're going to pull out her dead mother's uniform to encourage her to flip higher?"

Rachel is silent, and immediately Santana wishes she could bring the words back, "Fuck, you know I didn't mean it like that Rachel."

"No, you're right." Rachel says, trying to keep herself under control.

In the end, Santana takes the boxes with her. She promises to take them to the donation center for Rachel, when she gets out to her car, she pulls out Quinn's McKinley High Athletics tshirt. It's old and grey, and horribly pilled with a small hole in the armpit, but Santana remembers the exact day when they were in high school and she poked her finger through the hole, teasing her best friend.

She lays the shirt on the passenger seat, and tries very hard not to think about how Quinn will never sit there again.

…

"Where is the munchkin anyway?"

"Don't call her that."

"Midget?"

"Santana."

"Short stack?"

"There she is!" Quinn stood on her tiptoes to get a view over the crowd at the door which led backstage. It's Rachel's first on-Broadway production, they're all twenty four, and they've just graduated from college. Quinn and Puck were both gone for a few months right after graduation for their specific training schools following commissioning.

Quinn had been away for most of the week for special training, and she had lied, telling Rachel she wouldn't be back in time for the opening night show. She had dragged Santana along to the theatre (knowing the Latina was secretly a huge fan).

"Come on!" Quinn smiled. She didn't wait to see if Santana was following before she weaved her way through the crowd. She found Ariel, the dancer she had befriended and who had gotten the tickets for her and Santana. It was Ariel's assignment to bring Rachel out to the lobby to be surprised by Quinn, and the redhead had delivered on her job, pointing excitedly at Rachel when she made eye contact with Quinn.

The moment Rachel saw Quinn, tears sprung to her eyes and she sprinted the final few feet into the blonde's arms. Quinn laughed and hugged her girlfriend tight, picking her up and twirling her around in a circle. Rachel had only had time to change out of her costume from the last number and throw on a pair of sweats and show t-shirt before Ariel had dragged her out front under the guise of 'meeting a big fan'. As such, Rachel was still totally done up in her show makeup and her elaborate hairdo.

Quinn let her girlfriend go, "You were amazing, Rach."

"Thank you." The brunette smiled, "You're supposed to be in Atlanta training!"

"I lied."

Rachel slapped her indignantly on the shoulder, "Lucy Quinn Fabray! Don't you pull that shit with me." The singer threatened, she held Quinn at arms length, checking her over like she did every time Quinn returned from any sort of military activity and even though the blonde was wearing a dress and heels because she got back from her training in time to clean up, Rachel appraised her closely.

When she was apparently satisfied, Rachel's hard look didn't let up, "You aren't allowed to do that. The whole coming home a day earlier than you tell me, or showing up unexpectedly, you can't do that to me. One day it's going to be more than just me waiting on you, and you're going to have to be accountable to them too."

Quinn was tempted to laugh, but the sincerity behind Rachel's look made her crack, "Rachel Berry, did you just imply that you want to have children with me?"

Rachel blushed immediately, it wasn't something they had ever really talked about before in anything other than ambiguous terms like 'I love babies' and 'I'm never naming my kid that'.

Now Rachel was caught, but she's Rachel Berry and she just got off her debut on Broadway, and she can do anything, "Yeah. I did."

Quinn didn't say anything, just cupped Rachel's cheek and pressed a chaste kiss to her lips. Santana showed up then having fought her way through the rubbernecking crowd whispering about the couple.

"Get a room." She joked, bumping shoulders with Quinn and handing the blonde the bouquet of roses she had been tasked with holding.

Quinn rolled her eyes at her friend but took the flowers to present to Rachel. They were yellow roses (the closest to gold that roses could be). After every single show, Quinn got the yellow roses to Rachel. It was always a bouquet on opening night, and a single rose each performance following.

Even on her deployments, Quinn made the roses happen.


	7. Chapter 7

"Whoever said that loss gets easier with time was a liar. Here's what really happens: The spaces between the times you miss them grow longer. Then, when you do remember to miss them again, it's still with a stabbing pain to the heart. And you have guilt. Guilt because it's been too long since you missed them last."  
― Kristin O'Donnell Tubb, The 13th Sign

* * *

7.

It's June so it's sunny, and it's getting hot outside again. It's nearly six months after The Funeral (Rachel has never referred to it as 'Quinn's Funeral' because as beautiful and meaningful as the whole event was, she has never felt further from her wife than she did standing by the side of her grave) and Rachel hasn't cried in a whole week.

There are bad days, days when she can't look at the photo of Quinn on the mantle, when she wakes up and for just a split second forgets that Quinn isn't by her side. There's days when she can't bear to look into her daughter's eyes because they're the exact same hazel as Quinn's are (were).

But there's good days too. Where she laughs with her children, takes them to the park, she sings, and she's back work shopping a new show.

It's Saturday which means she's home all day, and she the kids don't want to go to a museum, so they're having a lazy day in the house. Rachel is regarding the refrigerator, trying to figure out how she can justifiably feed her kids lunch and dinner without having to go shopping today when she hears it.

The complete and utter silence.

Last she saw, Alec was sprawled across the couch in the living room reading a book, so the quiet from him makes sense, but Nora had been playing in her room. Every few minutes Rachel could hear the girl's idle chatter as she talked to herself or her imaginary friends. Now the radio static was unsettling.

She shut the fridge and wandered into the living room, "Alec, have you seen your sister?"

"Nope." He pops the 'p' and doesn't bother looking up from his book.

For just a moment Rachel has an abstract thought how Quinn was lucky to have missed the rebellious teenage years with their children, but just as quickly as the thought came, Rachel is banishing it and somehow simultaneously berating herself for such a careless lapse, and applauding herself for managing to acknowledge that Quinn will not be here to see these things and not completely breaking down.

Each day is a new day.

She continues through the house coming up empty in Nora's bedroom, Alec's, her own, and even all of the bathrooms are vacant. She only gets lucky when as she's checking the laundry room, she notices the garage door is slightly ajar.

She finds Nora staring intently at the pink and purple bicycle that she had gotten for her last birthday.

"What are you doing, Nor?" Rachel asks, coming to kneel beside her daughter.

"Nothing." The girl shrugs.

"Do you want to go bike riding today?" She prods, Nora hasn't learned yet, and today is as good a day as any.

"No."

"But you've gotta learn sometime sweetie. Then you can ride around the park with your brother."

Nora shuffles her light up sneakers against the cement of the garage, "I can't learn until Momma gets home."

Rachel feels her heart break, she doesn't yet have words for this.

Nora's birthday was December and it was too snowy for a ride then, but Quinn (who managed to get a special skype call to wish her baby a happy sixth birthday from Afghanistan) had promised to teach her how to ride it when she got back.

It was the last skype call Quinn made before she died.

"Nora, you remember that day when you wore your new black dress and we went to the cemetery with Auntie Britt, and Santana, and Uncle Puck and Kurt?"

The girl nods.

"You remember where I told you that Momma went?"

"You said that Momma went up in the sky where she can watch us and take care of us." Nora guesses, doing her best to recall the words.

"Yeah sweetie." Rachel nods sadly at her daughter's approximation of her mother's bad attempt to explain heaven (Rachel knows Quinn always struggled with the idea too, but for completely different reasons), "The thing is, Momma isn't coming back."

"I know." Nora smiles, "She's busy protecting us."

This is what they told Nora when Quinn had to deploy.

"This time it's different." Rachel explains slowly, "This time, she isn't going to come back, Nora. She's protecting us, just like when she had to go away for a while, but your Momma, she was so strong, and so kind…" Rachel trails off.

"They kept her cause she's too good." Nora fills in.

Rachel smiles because her daughter is so incredibly right, "Yeah, sweetie."

Eventually, Rachel convinces Nora to learn to ride her bike. Alec comes out too, and he's really the one who ends up teaching her, Rachel just sort of chases both of them up and down the block laughing at Alec's watchful eye on his little sister. She can already imagine him staring down any boy Nora brings home when she's older.

When Alec lets go of the back of her bike and keeps running next to her, Rachel feels her breath catch in her throat.

But Nora doesn't fall, she keeps pedaling hard down the street, and only falls off when the both of them make it all the way back down the road to their house and her front tire bounces off the curb.

By the time Rachel makes it down the road to check on her kids, she finds a laughing Nora, and Alec who is tickling his sister's knee where a small bit of road rash has appeared.

…

Quinn was twenty five the first time she had to deploy, her birthday was a few months before Rachel's, so Rachel was still twenty four the first time Quinn left her. They had been married for under six months. Quinn had come home to their loft apartment after a long weekend of field training, dropped her rucksack by the door, and unlaced her boots.

Rachel was in the kitchen, singing and chopping vegetables for the stir fry she was making, "Hey, do you want onions in this, or do you want me to make a separate one for you without?"

Quinn didn't say anything, she just unbuttoned her camouflage top, shrugged out of it, and dropped it on the couch as she passed by.

"Quinn?" The brunette asked, shooting her wife a concerned look, "What's wrong?"

Quinn scratched the back of her neck uncomfortably, she didn't know how to tell Rachel. She should have told Rachel earlier, it was inevitable and they had been given notice months ago, but Quinn kept finding reasons to avoid the conversation. But now they had a date and a location, and everything was so real, she had to tell Rachel. She couldn't find the words, thankfully, she didn't have to.

"You're deploying." Rachel said quietly.

"For eight months." Quinn confirmed.

"When?"

"Two months from now."

Rachel nodded, she knew this would happen eventually. She had just selfishly hoped that she would have more time before she really had to confront Quinn's job. Tears began to well in the corners of Rachel's eyes, and Quinn stepped forward immediately to wrap her wife in a secure hug.

Rachel's bare legs brushed the scratchy material of her wife's camo pants. It was a feeling she had learned over their years together, and now Rachel could only think of how these were the same pants Quinn would be wearing half a world away.

"Hey, no crying." Quinn tried, "I'll be back before you know it."

"You're going to miss Chrismukkah."

Quinn laughed lightly. She ran her fingers through Rachel's hair, and tried to reassure herself even as the brunette's tears spotted the chest of her tan tee shirt. With both of them barefoot, she was half a head taller than Rachel, and she tried to memorize the perfect way Rachel fit into her arms.

When Rachel came home from the theatre the next night she was dead tired. Exhausted from the two shows she performed nearly every day, she was not prepared for the scrabbling she heard from the back of her apartment as she came through the door.

Even though it was a loft, she couldn't see her wife anywhere, "Quinn?"

"Close your eyes!"

"Quinn-"

"Please Rach." The brunette could tell that Quinn must be somewhere in the vicinity of their bed, but she was crouching out of sight.

"Fine."

"No peeking." Quinn commanded.

"I'm not." Rachel said with a smile spreading across her face. She heard footsteps padding across the floor until they stopped right in front of her.

"Alright, you can open them now."

Rachel was greeted with the sight of her wife in sweatpants and a sheepish smile, holding a black lab puppy.

"What's this?"

"This is Sergeant. He's three months old, house trained, and loves to cuddle."

Rachel gave her wife a skeptical look, her eyes danced between the blonde and the dog. It took one cocked eyebrow for her to cave.

"I don't want you to be alone when I have to deploy."

"Quinn-"

"I know he's just a dog, but I can't just leave you alone." Quinn wasn't looking at Rachel when she was explaining herself. If she had known seven years ago when she was eighteen that her decision to join the Army would result in her buying a puppy to try and make herself feel better about leaving her wife half a world behind, she doesn't know if she would have made the same decision.

Rachel could see how hard this was for Quinn, and even though she was still feeling a twinge of indignation that Quinn was leaving her, she couldn't bear to make this harder.

"He's perfect."

"Really?" Quinn had that same hopeful look she had when Rachel said she wanted to go on a second date with her.

"Really."

They made the most of their two months together, and the day Quinn's unit deployed to Afghanistan, Rachel did her very best not to cry. She didn't cry when she hugged Quinn for the last time, felt Quinn lay her cheek on top of her head, and hold her as close as she could.

When they pulled back, Rachel had tried her very best not to let the tears in the corners of her eyes show even as she looked around at the other families saying goodbye. There were small children clinging to parents, sullen teenagers looking as disinterested as they could, parents hugging their young soldiers, and spouses with their heads bent close together.

"I can't believe you turned me into an Army Wife." Rachel joked, trying desperately to lighten the mood.

"It's a good look on you." Quinn teased.

Rachel laughed, and god, she was going to miss this.

"I'll be back before you know it." Quinn promised, seeing the change in her wife's expression.

Rachel wanted to tell her not to promise things she couldn't guarantee even though they both knew this deployment location was not the most dangerous Quinn could have gotten. But she didn't. She never did, even when Quinn was promising their children she would be back for birthdays or before Chrismukkah.

Quinn pressed a final kiss to Rachel's lips, and joined the rest of the unit streaming onto the bus.

Rachel watched her wife's blonde bun until it disappeared with the rest of the camo clad figures on the bus. That night, she hardly slept with Sergeant curled in bed at her side.


	8. Chapter 8

"It is 4am.

Your perfume is on

Everything, on me

On all the world – you

Are all around, you

Are all of my tattered

Senses and no poetry,

No song, no writing,

Nothing in the world

Will make this better."

**–David Jones, _Could You Ever Live Without?_**

* * *

Rachel is on the PTA. She hates the PTA, but she wants to be involved with the school for Nora and Alec so every other Tuesday night she throws on a pair of mom jeans and makes her way to the elementary school. Now, Alec is eleven and he's starting middle school so Rachel is going to her very first meeting at the middle school.

She is running late and she barely has time to throw her hair up in a sloppy bun after getting home from rehearsals, making the kids dinner, and having them ready for their sitter of the night (Kurt who cannot make the kids dinner for the life of him) before she is lightly jogging through the halls of the unfamiliar school until she finds the library.

She slips in quietly and sneaks into a seat in the back next to a woman scowling at her cell phone. She shoots the woman a quick smile before trying to focus in on the meeting, she does this successfully until the woman swears lowly under her breath.

Rachel glances over, and takes in the frown etched deeply on the brunette next to her's face, and though she can easily see how this expression could be intimidating, it's almost endearing. The woman taps out a message quickly, her perfectly manicured nails clicking against the the screen of the phone until she triumphantly hits send and sits back a bit.

The woman catches Rachel's interested gaze on her and smiles a little apologetically, "Work refuses to stay at the office."

Rachel returns the smile, "I understand. Well not the office, but work doesn't stay at work." She says awkwardly, feeling a slight blush rising on her cheeks. Since when does Rachel Berry blush? She asks herself severely.

The woman smiles at Rachel's stumblings, "First PTA meeting?"

"Yes. Well first one here at least." Rachel drops her voice to a whisper after recieving a look from a soccer mom in front of her, the woman beside her scoffs at the soccer mom before softening her expression when she looks back to Rachel, "I've been on the elementary school one for the last five years, but my son just started here."

"Ah," The woman nods, "I'll be doing the same next year when my son moves onto high school."

"So, as a seasoned veteran of the middle school PTA, what advice do you have?" Rachel asks.

"Well, I just try to hide out in the back and avoid getting volunteered for any canned food drives." The woman says, then shifting the smallest bit closer to Rachel, she adds in a conspiritorial tone, "But between you and me, I think the PTA president Mary Margaret, keeps having kids for the express reason of keeping her position as president."

Rachel laughs, and is quickly glared at by the aforementioned president.

She sits back, rightly scolded, but the woman next to her just returns the glare. Rachel holds back a giggle at the sour look on the president's face. She talks on and off through the meeting with the brunette woman and learns that her name is Regina- she's a corporate lawyer who deals mainly with contract law. She's been living in New York with her son for the past five years after she left Maine.

PTA meetings become a thing between the two of them, and four weeks later it's Regina sliding into the back row of chairs a few minutes late to the meeting. Rachel doesn't mention it until they're walking out to their cars together at the end of the meeting.

"Looks like your tardy." Rachel teases gently.

Regina smiles, but it's not the full one that the singer has grown accustomed to over the past few weeks of meetings, "Yeah, it was a rough day with Henry."

"Oh?" Rachel had met her son a couple of times and he always seemed like a responsible, quiet kid.

Regina is quiet for a moment, drawing to a stop beside her black Benz as she seemingly contemplates her response, "It was a hard anniversary."

Rachel nods, knowing exactly what Regina means, "I'm sorry, I don't mean to pry. If you need anything you can always lean on me." She offers.

The older woman smiles, "You're fine dear. Today makes five years since my late wife died." She confides.

"Oh." Rachel is stunned. For some reason throughout her mourning she had forgotten she wasn't the only one. Other people had spouses that died, they had kids, and they had to raise them on their own.

Regina misinterpreted her shocked response, "I don't mean to overwhelm you or anything-"

"No!" Rachel says a little too loudly, "I have a dead wife too!" Regina cocks an eyebrow at her outburst, but there's a hint of a smile forming on her lips illuminated by the faded lights in the parking lot, "I just mean that I was married- to a woman- my wife," Rachel stutters, "And she died." She finishes lamely.

They're both quiet for a second until Rachel has to laugh at herself and her pathetic attempt at an explanation. After a second she whacks Regina lightly on the bicep, "You're a jerk, Mills!" She accuses, "I try to confide in you about my dead wife and you laugh at me!"

Regina sobers up for a second and then says entirely too seriously, "Want to start a widowed lesbians club?"

…

Quinn's second deployment took a toll on her in a way her first one didn't. She and Rachel had Alec who had just turned five, and Nora was born two months into Quinn's deployment.

Quinn was thirty three and one of the older engineers deploying. They were deployed in a unit filled largely with mechanics, payload specialists, and vehicle operators. By and large, the soldiers Quinn was serving with were under twenty two. They called her 'Mom', and seeing her with Rachel and Alec at the predeployment picnics and events only solidified the nickname.

One day, nearly halfway through the deployment, Quinn was silent. She called home on Tuesday night like she always did and after Alec got his few minutes on the phone with his mother, she was silent. Rachel waited, listening to the dead space from halfway around the world.

"I nearly got an Article 15 today." Quinn admitted sheepishly.

Rachel knew this was a write up for disciplinary action, she knew that Quinn had never gotten one and she knew how serious they were, "What did you do?"

"Puck and Rick and I stole all the guideons from the platoon and relocated them to on top of the mess hall."

Rachel rolled her eyes, "Why the hell did you do that?"

There was more silence, and Rachel could practically hear her wife shrugging. She was 33, she had two kids, and she was running around stealing flags like a small boy with scraped knees on the playground.

"Quinn you've got to be careful, you've got a lot waiting for you back home."

Nora rolled over in her arms, and Rachel felt a pang, remembering that Quinn still had never seen their daughter in person, "She has your eyes." Rachel said softly. It was clear she was talking about their little girl, and she heard Quinn breathe deeply.

"When someone dies out here and we send them home, there's an honor guard that escorts the casket onto the plane. Going out to be there when they load up the body is optional for everyone, but once you're out there and the processional starts, you can't move. No matter what. Even if the bombing sirens go off."

Rachel listened to all of this silently, praying that Quinn didn't know this from standing on the flight line with sirens in the background.

"He was only twenty." Quinn whispered, her voice cracked, and Rachel's heart tightened, "It was his first deployment, he was a payload specialist and he should have been fine. He just went out on patrol."

"Quinn-"

"Right before he left with his squad, they passed me. Him and Rick, they were always screwing around, they passed me and Sam said 'see ya later Mom' and he never came back." Rachel heard a sharp intake of breath from Quinn as the blonde tried not to cry, "He called me Mom, and now he's dead Rachel."

The singer has nothing to say to that. She went to her grandmother's funeral when she was a kid, but that was nothing compared to this.

"Puck and I stole the guidons because nothing's been the same, and we just needed everything to be normal again."

Rachel listened to her wife breathing in the quiet. She didn't have words for this. Just when she thought that Quinn must be too worn out to produce anymore words, she said in the softest breath Rachel's heard from her in years, "Tell me about our girl."

She smiled, watching the little girl sleeping in her arms, "She's perfect. She's got these little baby curls, and she has the most adorable laugh. She's not too fussy with bedtime like Alec was, but she has a set of pipes on her." She told Quinn.

"I can't wait until you meet her."


	9. Chapter 9

"You will lose someone you can't live without, and your heart will be badly broken, and the bad news is that you never completely get over the loss of your beloved. But this is also the good news. They live forever in your broken heart that doesn't seal back up. And you come through. It's like having a broken leg that never heals perfectly – that still hurts when the weather gets cold, but you learn to dance with the limp."

**–Anne Lamott**

* * *

Rachel takes her ring off a year later, the Christmas decorations are half off and the supermarket is riddled with holiday leftovers. Rachel loads her goods onto the conveyor belt in the checkout line, she's in line in front of a woman around her age who has a small boy in the seat of her cart.  
He looks at Rachel with curious eyes, and she makes a funny face at him, causing him to burst out into giggles. His mother smiles at the interaction, "Do you have any kids of your own?"

"Two, I miss this cute age, mine are both older."

"Every parent I meet tells me to enjoy it while it lasts, but I can't wait till he's out of diapers." The woman jokes.

Rachel laughs, "Yeah I don't miss that."

"My husband, bless his heart, is completely useless in that department too, so it's all me."

Rachel nods sympathetically, "I understand."

"Is yours bad with diapers too?"

"Hmm?" Rachel asks.

"Your husband," The woman clarifies, gesturing to the wedding band on Rachel's left hand, "was he no help with the diapers?"

"Oh, wife." Rachel corrects automatically.

The mother blushes, "I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have assumed."

"No, it's alright." The singer waves the apology away.

For a moment it hurts, because she feels the weight of the ring on her finger and she feels the familiar pang of remembering. But she's come so far from those early days where her biggest accomplishment was getting the kids to school on time and she couldn't say Quinn's name without breaking down.

Now she can remember without it hurting too much. She can remember their early days with kids where she would watch Quinn wrestling with diapers. The blonde had managed to get the hang of it eventually, but the process getting to that point was laughable.

"It took a while, but she was able to get the hang of the diapers eventually." Rachel says, and even musters up a smile.

When she gets home, she takes off her ring for the first time in nearly twenty years. She considers putting it on a chain and wearing it as a necklace, but she knows that the constant reminder around her neck isn't what she needs.

She puts it carefully in her jewlery box on top of her dresser.

The widowed lesbians club meets twice a week. Once on Tuesday at the PTA meetings, and once on the weekend for Sunday coffee. Sunday coffee is held at Rachel's because of the need for a babysitter for Nora, and usually turns into Regina giving Rachel rudimentary baking lessons for as great as Rachel is in the kitchen, she cannot bake anything beyond basic cookies.

Nora is absolutely smitten with Regina. The brunette is the first person that Rachel has let into her life since Quinn died, and it feels good, this opening up. She learns about Regina's late wife. Her name was Emma and she was a state trooper, their family lived in a small town in Maine where Regina had worked in local politics. One evening on a routine traffic stop, Emma was struck by a drunk driver, she died instantly and left Regina with a nine year old Henry.

She moved with her son to New York shortly thereafter, not able to escape the ghosts of their small town.

Rachel asks Regina about her ring the Sunday after she takes off her own. They are making apple turnovers, and Rachel is watching the older woman's skilled hands as she kneads the dough. Her left hand is devoid of a telltale wedding band.

"When did you take off your ring?" She asks out of the blue.

Regina doesn't need clarification, "About three months after." She says, her hands not pausing in her preparations, "It felt like a betrayal to Emma at first, like I was moving on without her. And in the beginning I couldn't even fathom having to do everything without her, but it just hurt too much to keep wearing it."

…

Quinn was thirty two the first time she met her daughter. Nora was born two months into her eight month deployment, she missed the birth of her daughter, Rachel's birthday, Chrismukkah, their anniversary, and her own birthday.

Her platoon had a layover in Charlotte on the way from the Middle East to New York, and the three hours she spent on American soil but still away from her family were the longest of her life. Some of the soldiers who had family in the area chose to stay rather than fly all the way back to the base they were all stationed at.

She and Puck took a short walk around the airport, needing to stretch their legs after the long flight. Because they were still in uniform they got a mixture of odd looks from civilians and the customary 'thank you for your service'. They got coffee and the man behind them in line had understanding in his eyes when he asked, "Coming or going?"

"Coming." Quinn replied, the man was well dressed and was clearly some sort of business man, but the perfect gig line and tucked in laces let Quinn know he was ex-military.

"Welcome home." He said.

"Thanks, we're still a few states away."

He nodded, when they got to the front of the line, he paid for their coffee.

The moment the wheels touched down in New York, Quinn was out of her seat like a shot, "Ready to be a mom?" Puck had teased her with a goodnatured smile.

She rolled her eyes, "I'm already one." She reminded him.

He shrugged and shouldered his rucksack. When they exited the terminal, they were overwhelmed with family, home made signs, and those small American flags on popsicle sticks. Alec wormed his way through the crowd to her, and she picked him up, marveling in how much he had sprouted up in the months she had been gone. Rachel reached her slower, and Quinn felt tears pricking the corners of her eyes as she saw her daughter for the first time.

The next day she put on a pair of jeans and a Columbia sweater. She considered putting on her sharp formal uniform, but somehow she knew that wasn't what the occasion called for. She drove for nearly two hours to the boondocks of New Jersey until she found the address she was looking for. It was a small house with an extensive collection of lawn ornaments.

The walk up the drive way was long and hard and she squared her shoulders before ringing the bell. The door was answered by a short woman in her early fifties wearing an apron, her hair lightly dusted with flower.

"Mrs. Evans?"

She took one look at Quinn and stepped aside to let her in. The blonde looked around the house, taking in the photos smiling at her from every available surface, the two teenagers lounging on the couch watching television, the flag on the mantle.

The woman led Quinn through the house to the kitchen, "Coffee?"

"Yes, please." Quinn tried to contain her fidgeting, but failed spectacularly.

When the woman had poured them both a cup and sat across from Quinn at the small table she finally said more, "We had the service six months ago." Quinn nodded, "I know his unit was scheduled to get back yesterday."

"Yes ma'am."

"So you've just gotten back from eight months at war and instead of spending time with your family, you're here."

Quinn took a sip of her coffee, "I had to come and talk with you. Sam was a good soldier, he was such a good man, I just wanted to let you know that we know. We know how special he was."

"Do you have children?"

"Yes, two. I actually missed the birth of my daughter on this deployment."  
There was a second while Mrs. Evans tries to puzzle out what Quinn had said, but when her eyes widened in realization there was no malice, "Parents aren't supposed to outlive their kids." Mrs. Evans said in a broken voice.

Quinn reached across the table to grasp her hand, "No, they're not."

Quinn stayed for a while longer. When she left she clapped the teenage boy solidly on the back, he was the little brother Sam always talked about, and now he was the man of the house. Quinn gave him her number with the promise of if he ever needs _anything_.

From there she went to the cemetery when she approached the area where Mrs. Evans had told her that Sam was buried, she saw another figure. Even from yards away there was no mistaking the lanky stance of Rick Malcom.

"I should have known you would be here." She greeted.

He smiled softly at her, it was a far cry from the uneven quirk he had shot her for the last eight months when they were at war, "Don't you have a daughter to be catching up with?"

She shrugged, "I had to say goodbye."

"Is that what this is?" He said cryptically, "I just mean goodbye is supposed to be something final, but I know this isn't the last time I'll be here, it isn't going to be the last time I think about Sam or talk to him like he's still here."

Quinn nodded, "So what is this?"

Rick was quiet for a while, his lip caught between his teeth. He pulled a quarter from his pocket and flipped it in his hand, "Checking in." He decided, placing the quarter carefully on the headstone. It joined a whole collection of coins, mainly pennies and nickles, a couple of dimes. His was the only quarter.

Rick turned to walk from the cemetery, when he was halfway out, he paused and turned, "How's the daughter?" He called from across the row of headstones.

Quinn laughed, this felt good. Talking about the newly living here amongst the dead, the soon and long departed, "Beautiful. But she has lungs like her mother."

Rick chuckled, leaving the cemetery fully as Quinn added a dime to the coins on top of Sam's headstone.


	10. Chapter 10

"Well, I'm sorry you couldn't make it either. I'm sorry I had to sit there in that church-which, by the way, had a broken air conditioner-sweating, watching all those people march down the aisle to look in my mother's casket and whisper to themselves all this mess about how much she looked like herself, even though she didn't. I'm sorry you weren't there to hear the lame choir drag out, song after song. I'm sorry you weren't there to see my dad try his best to be upbeat, cracking bad jokes in his speech, choking on his words. I'm sorry you weren't there to watch me totally lose it and explode into tears. I'm sorry you weren't there for me, but it doesn't matter, because even if you were, you wouldn't be able to feel what I feel. Nobody can. Even the preacher said so."

― Jason Reynolds, The Boy in the Black Suit

* * *

Alec visits Quinn's grave for the first time without Rachel when he is eighteen. It's been seven years, and he's starting college in a few weeks. The cemetery is in upstate New York, it's beautiful with trees and small hills, and it's much too far for him to walk or bike and he doesn't have a car. He asks Henry to drive him.  
Henry is twenty-two and he's going into his senior year of college at Yale and he has a car. They made fast friends after their mothers met at that PTA meeting, they bonded over loss and moved on together.

Now Henry waits in the parking lot while Alec trudges through the cemetery to find his mother's grave. When he does, he toes the grass awkwardly for a moment. He's only been here for the funeral and once on the first anniversary of her death when a whole parade of family and friends had gone to pay their respects. He had never come alone.

He scans a look across the mostly empty cemetery before mentally kicking himself- flowers. He should have brought flowers. Bouquets rest against headstones up and down the path. He considers snitching a few flowers to lay on Quinn's, or maybe picking some, but nothing aside form grass is growing here. Not even a dandelion.

He can't help but laugh at that.

He chuckles and finally just plops down on the grass next to the headstone, not staring at it, but just sitting beside it as though they were watching life go past together.

"I can't believe I was seconds away from stealing some dead person's flowers." He muses aloud, "You didn't even like flowers, that was always more of Mom's thing."

He runs a hand through his hair, it's longer than Rachel likes it to be, and he supposes it's just another thing he's picked up from Henry who was always fighting Regina on haircuts when they were growing up.

"So I got into Columbia." He throws out, "I know you probably have wanted me to go so I could be a legacy at your alma mater, but I'm going to Yale. I leave soon. Regina likes to say that Henry and I are starting a new legacy since he goes there too, and now we just need Nora to go as well."

Alec fidgets and shreds some grass, "I didn't used to like when she said stuff like that. I was kinda messed up for a while when she and Mom started dating. So was Henry. We tried to run away, he was seventeen and he stole Regina's car, we made it all the way to Maine cause he wanted to go home."

He remembers that day after driving all the previous day and all night that he and Henry had arrived in a small town called Storybooke. Henry had gone to the cemetery and a thirteen year old Alec watched his friend cry angrily in front of a white granite headstone. They turned around and drove back to New York right after.

When they arrived back at Alec's brownstone, Regina and Rachel were both sitting at the kitchen table red- eyed. Regina had hugged Alec just as tightly as she had Henry when the boys walked in the front door.

"I just wanted to let you know that Mom is happy, that she's doing good. She wasn't for a while but she is now." He takes a deep breath before the next part, "I guess Regina has really helped with that. You would like her." he muses, "She doesn't take shit from anyone, and she's probably the smartest person I know. It's really because of her reading my admission essay so many times that I probably got into Yale. And she's the best baker, but she can be really serious. She makes Mom laugh."

"Nora's doing really good too. She's so smart and she loves to sing just like Mom. Sometimes she asks questions about you, she used to ask Mom, but Mom would get sad so now she just asks me. She's afraid sometimes that she'll forget you since she was so young, but Henry is great with that. His ma died when he was just eight and he always says 'it's ok to forget little things as long as you never forget that you loved her and she loved you'."

"Mom's probably told you all about Regina and Henry and Emma. I know that she visits you without Nor and me, she tries to do it sneakily, but she always comes home late and her eyes are all red and Regina tells her to go to bed early and makes her tea." His voice softens, "Then she makes banana pancakes in the morning and tries to make them into shapes but they're just blobs."

By now he's made an impressive heap of blades of grass he's uprooted, "For a little Mom had me and Nora going to this support group for kids who have lost parents. It was total bull, but I think it helped Nora. They said that loss is hard for kids cause we experience it over and over again at milestones and I didn't get it till I was packing up to move out. You're not gonna see me off to college or be there at my graduation."

He shoots a quick look at the parking lot where he can just make out Henry leaning casually against his car, "I'm planning on joining the Army. I haven't told mom yet, but Regina helped me with the ROTC paperwork. She cried a bit when I first told her, but she keeps saying she's really proud of me."

He grows quiet and contemplative watching a figure striding purposefully through the cemetery, after a moment Alec realizes that the man is walking his way. He is tall and lanky, and he regards Alec seated beside the headstone before recognition comes across his features, "Alec."

"Do I know you?" He asks politely.

"No, but I knew your mother." He says sadly. He reaches into his pocket, pulling out a quarter and laying on top of the headstone to join the collection of other coins there, "She was a good soldier, a great person." He smiles a little at Henry, "We used to call her mom."

Henry nods, this is something that Rachel has told him. She doesn't talk much about Quinn's service but he remembers from the funeral service, all the strong men and women in uniform who had given his mother their condolences, saying how 'Mom kept me together over there' and 'Mom is the only reason I'm here still'. Henry used to be confused, his Ma was only his and Nora's, but eventually he had learned.

"I just had to come," The man says as though he has to explain himself to Henry, "I'm heading back to the rock pile next week."

Henry nods, he knows that the rock pile means Iraq, "I wanted to say goodbye before I go to college."

The man smiles, he seems proud of Henry for some reason the eighteen year old can't quite yet fathom, "Don't ever say goodbye." He instructs, "Just keep checking in."

…

Quinn was braiding paracord. There wasn't much to do on these long boring days of convoying from one location to another, so she had been making a bracelet out of some spare paracord. She had already made three on the deployment and she didn't know what she would do with all of them. She mused for a bit about how much money the Department of Defense could make selling off the stuff soldiers made when they were bored.

She would probably give one to Nora.

The convoy made it to the next basecamp without issue and everyone settled in for a night of rotating watch shifts and waiting until they were cleared to move on. This basecamp was one of the nicer ones and Quinn was able to talk her way into making a special Skype call home. It was Nora's sixth birthday.

The image of her family on the small screen was grainy, but she could see the brightness in Rachel's eyes. She promised she would teach Nora how to ride her new bike when she got home.

When the little girl asked when that would be, Quinn said, "Before you know it, Nor."

"Say goodbye to Ma." Rachel had ordered when she saw Quinn shooting a look over her shoulder at the other officers signaling that their time had run short.

"Bye!" The kids yelled in unison.  
"Bye! Love you munchkins." Quinn smiled.

"I love you, be safe." Rachel said, her customary parting words.

"I love you too." Quinn had promised, waiting a few more seconds to watch the other three before she hung up.

Orders came around midday that they were almost clear to keep driving, they just needed to send two Humvees to check out what appeared to be a rocky out cropping in their path. Quinn being the senior engineer (and sick of sitting around camp all day) immediately volunteered.

A younger guy named Rick who had been on her last deployment with her laughed at her eagerness, "Trying to make a break for it?" He had joked.

"You know it. My girl just turned six, I thought I would commander a jet and make a quick trip home." She sassed.

He laughed and volunteered to go too. Quinn's Humvee was full and Rick ended up in the second one, "Guess you can't take a joyride with me." Quinn had joked.

"Next time, Mom." Rick replied.

His buddy was behind the wheel and Rick was fiddling with the radio trying to get anything other than static when the explosion happened.

The first Humvee was overturned, a smoldering pile of wrecked metal mere feet in front of them. It must have been an IUD buried where they couldn't see it. Rick was out of the Humvee in seconds, the rest of the crew following as they sprinted out to check on the four soldiers who had been in the wreck.

Rick could see someone laying in the dust who must have been ejected, his buddy went to check the person out, and Rick headed for the wreck. The glass on the front window was gone, and he could see Quinn still strapped into her seat next to the driver, both hanging upsidedown in the smoking vehicle.

The driver had clearly died on impact, but Quinn was barely stirring.

Rick reached in as best he could, shaking the blonde's shoulder, "Mom! Hey talk to me!"

She groaned and Rick knew she was in really bad shape, "Comeon Fabray, it's your girl's birthday, tell me about her." He commanded.

Quinn heaved a painful breath, coughing on the exhale, blood misting from the roughness of the coughing indicating the massive internal injuries she was suffering from, "Tell Rach, tell her I'm sorry."

"No, Quinn." He begged. But the blonde's labored breathing slowed to a stop.

He withdrew from the smoking wreck, his buddy that had gone to check the solider who had been ejected from the vehicle was shaking his head, the same reply from the two men checking the last passenger in from Quinn's Humvee.

Four casualties, no survivors.

Rachel had just gotten home from picking up the kids at school. She contemplated letting them finish off the last of Nora's stale birthday cake from the party three days ago as an after school snack.

She decided against it and began cutting up some fruit when the doorbell rang. She padded through the house, pulling open the front door to reveal two men in formal uniform.

One of them was an older officer that she had met before- he and Quinn had deployed together, and he had children around Alec's age- and the other was a younger man. Her first thought was that he was too young for this, he was merely a boy and he shouldn't have to be present for these types of things. She knew what was coming, and she desperately wanted to protect this man- this boy from the heartache she could already feel building.

"Rachel," The older man began gently, "there was an accident."

The brunette covered her mouth with her hand, shaking her head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading through this, I know it was sad. Go pet a puppy or something.


End file.
